


oceans eyes

by sleebyama



Category: Black Sails
Genre: F/F, F/M, Historical Inaccuracies, Implied/Referenced Underage Sex, M/M, Slow Build, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-11-06
Updated: 2019-11-06
Packaged: 2021-01-24 04:00:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,090
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21331930
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sleebyama/pseuds/sleebyama
Summary: "A story is true. A story is untrue. As time extends, it matters less and less. The stories we want to believe, those are the ones that survive, despite upheaval and transition and progress. Those are the stories that shape history."―Jack Rackham
Relationships: "Calico" Jack Rackham & Charles Vane, "Calico" Jack Rackham/Charles Vane, Anne Bonny & "Calico" Jack Rackham, Anne Bonny & Max & "Calico" Jack Rackham, Anne Bonny/"Calico" Jack Rackham, Anne Bonny/Max, Eleanor Guthrie/Charles Vane
Comments: 1
Kudos: 18





	oceans eyes

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [this kind of waiting](https://archiveofourown.org/works/15783414) by [pdameron](https://archiveofourown.org/users/pdameron/pseuds/pdameron). 

> Underage is for Anne/Jack in between canon appearances bc Anne is hella young tbh.

There was only one reason Jack even entertained his collection of long sleeved shirts rather than the nice short sleeved collection that he has squirreled away in his chest. It’s not really because he liked the shirts, he does, but his arms prickled in Nassau’s heat unlike back when he lived in London. He used to favour short sleeves with long jackets, because it made sense, back in the Navy, in London before he found Anne

His soul mark was a surprisingly dainty thing for what it actually was, but he supposed it seemed fitting for his sword and his tongue. The needlepointed blade runs down the length of his forearm. It's a thin thing, the tip of the blade is covered by bracelets nowadays, the rest by his sleeves.

His parents used to whisper about his mark at night when they thought he was asleep.

_ "it has a dangerous meaning Marcus" _

_ "the boys going to get himself caught with the wrong people" _

_ "his soul mate must be a brute" _

_ “what must that say about him” _

His parents whispered in front of the fireplace with worry. They weren't entirely wrong. But they weren't right either. 

His soulmate was a wildfire. His soulmate was a spark that burst into a flame. His soul mate raged when he'd been wronged and simmered when he's been appeased. His soulmate was the Captain of the ship he squirreled himself and Anne on to escape from England.

  
  


* * *

For a long time Jack thought that Anne would be his soul mate. She was young, but she has taken care of him as much as he has looked after her. It took awhile for her to trust him enough, enough that she could show him the small flame on her skin. He unwrapped the leather bracer he had on his arm as a precaution and showed her the needle point dagger that looked like fresh ink in his skin. 

He hoped he had never pressured her into everything, not that she couldn’t take care of herself without him. But he had taught Anne to keep her hair in front of her face, to lower her voice as much as she could manage. Called her Bonny and lied through his teeth to bring her aboard the Ranger when he had finally caught up to it with her along. 

He never regretted bringing her with him. He loved her despite everything they had been through, to get them to where they were now. She loved him despite they didn’t have a matching set of soul marks. He was happy he had Anne, then one day when they were on deck, waves crashing against the hull one day and their Captain was training despite the sway of the ship absent his shirt.

The soul mark that mockingly mimics his own is trailed down the length of Captain Vane’s ribs, flashing in and out of sight as the Captain dances with grace around the deck, dodging attack after attack. Anne was the one to actually notice it first, she nudged him in the ribs and pointed it out with a tip of her hat. He almost dropped the pocket watch he was slipping into his coat pocket when he looked up and caught sight of it.

His forearm throbbed like it knew that Captain Vane was right in front of him. The Captain gave no indication of ever having felt anything from their marks, although it was rare. That night below deck. He held a hand over his bracer and tried to let the warmth from the mark settle into his bones.

He didn’t end up falling asleep until the sun was almost up.

* * *

Captain Vane takes a liking to Anne a lot more than he does to Jack. It’s not necessarily Jack’s fault that his skill lies in his silver tongue and schmoozing rather than the silver glint of a blade. It doesn’t matter he’s a deadshot with a pistol, with anything else he’s shite. But Anne is a hurricane of red hair and fury and Vane likes to remind them that while Jack’s education sometimes, very rarely comes in handy, Anne tends to pull her weight, and his for the most part.

Captain Teach, the notorious Blackbeard, obviously hates the sight of him even more. He is scrawny and can’t scrap with the worst of them. His knowledge of charts is adequate but his skills with a cutlass are barely passable. 

Somewhere along the line Teach looks down on him and Jack for once in his life straightens his back and spits a ‘fuck you’ in the man’s face, only to get pistol whipped and smacked into the ground by the pirate himself. Captain Vane picks him by the bracer over his soul mark, and somehow with that action, Jack has earned his respect.

Weeks slowly start scraping by. Months turn into years. Captain Vane catches them fucking behind the galley and finds out that Anne is well, Anne. Jack is ready to take the punishment for the both of them since Anne thrives much better on the ship than he does, when Captain Vane shakes his head.

“I don’t care.” He says with a low voice, eyes darting over to Anne. “I don’t care, if you want to do something like that again, use the cabin, just don’t make a mess.” And he turns and stalks back up the stairs with his hair flicking over his shoulder, beads and rings clicking together against his back.

Jack’s heart thumps wildly in his chest, so hard he can feel it beating against his ribs, there isn’t enough moonlight out, but he’s keenly aware of bis bracer not being on his wrist. Jack hugs his forearm to his chest, the mood lost, Anne straddling his thigh, carefully running her fingers over his furrowed brow.

“Do you want me to?” He raises an eyebrow at her. The meaning is understood instantly and he gets pushed down onto his back while Anne sits herself on his face and lets him bury his mouth against her cunt. He finishes her off, because even if his mood is gone he won’t leave her hanging.

She kisses him once they’re dressed again, and wipes his mouth with the sleeve of her long sleeved shirt before they creep back down below deck, soul marks carefully covered and crawling back into their hammocks.

Despite the constant fear that Captain Vane will out Anne, somewhere along the way Captain Vane becomes Charles, they become more familiar with each other.


End file.
